Vulnerability
by yournewship
Summary: Nightmares destroy your mind when it's at it's most vulnerable point. Vulnerability isn't something you want to have when you're a spy and an assassin. Especially when you're a spy many want dead.
1. Chapter 1

Red. All she could see was red. The walls were red, the sky was red. All she could feel was the heat, pressing in on her, choking her. She heard a scream.

"_MA!"_

_"Talia! Run! Get help!"_

She turned, and ran towards the door. Kicking it open, her bare feet slapped the hot ground as she raced down the smoking corridor and down the stairs. Every step she took seared into her muscles, every breath burned her lungs, but she couldn't stop. Out onto the street she burst, screaming for anyone, but no one was there. At the end of the street, under a dimly slit streetlight, a dark figure stood.

"_Sir! Please sir! My ma, she's still in the house, please sir. Sir, PLEASE!"_

Gasping, she ran up to the man, begging him to help her. The figure turned slowly towards her.

_"Please! She'll die if you don't help me! Please, PLEASE!"_

"Natasha."

She froze. The dark figure looked up.

_"How nice for you to drop in."_

_Clint._

Suddenly, everything changed. They were in the engine room. Her hands were covered in blood, the walk way was smeared with red. Along the sides, dead bodies lay littered, gushing wounds, empty eyes, the occasional cry. She looked around in horror. Clint stood at the end.

_"Look at the red, Tasha. No matter what you do, you'll never be able to wipe it out."_

Her hand went to the holster strapped to her side, her eyes getting darker.

"Don't even try. Do you remember the last time you underestimated someone else?"

Clint smirked, looking down at one of the bodies. A woman, her eyes glassy and face marred by burns. Her skin was red and stretched, her legs in crooked angles. Her hair was the ghost of a rich red, the same as Natasha's.

Ma.

Something snapped in the female assassin. A loud sound erupted from her mouth as she charged at Clint. He easily side-stepped her first punch, blocked the second blow. No matter what she did, he was always one step ahead. As she continued to attack, he laughed coldly, like she was just a pathetic bug. Suddenly, she remembered the gun on her side. Her hand reached for it, but Clint, seeing her movement, looped his leg around, kicking her in the back of her legs, causing her knees to give in. She collapsed into a fetal kneeling position in front of him. The sound of a bow being drawn.

_"Look at me, Natasha. I want to see the life leave your eyes."_

Natasha started at his shoes, ignoring his words. Clucking his tongue, her head suddenly snapped up, his cold fingers under her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. They were the normal colour. No Loki. The arrow left his bow.

Natasha Romanoff bolted out of her tangled sheets. A layer of sweat covered her forehead, her pillow slightly damp. She placed a hand to her racing heart as she groped for the digital clock on the bedside table. 6:03. Rubbing her arms, she slid out of her tangled sheets, and headed for the bathroom. She all but collapsed in front of the mirror, using the sink to support her heaving body. Breathing hard, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, her eyes bloodshot, dark purple bags under her eyes.

_Dammit Loki..._

She stripped and stepped into the shower, closing her eyes as the jets of water massaged her aching body. Her muscles groaned and her head was hammering. She hadn't had a proper night's sleep since Loki.

Dammit Loki.

Drying herself off, she pulled on a tank top and yoga pants. The phone on her bedside table rang. JARVIS' voice spoke though the intercom.

"Ms. Romanoff, is on line 1."

"Thanks JARVIS, I got it."

"What do you want Stark."

The overly cheerful voice of Tony Stark chirped through the phone.

"Why good morning to you too, itsy bitsy spider!"

"Listen, I can think of 6 ways to torture you using a fork and a roll of tape. Get to the point."

"Touchy touchy. I'm calling because the lovely has made us breakfast, and I expect you all the show up. By you all, I mainly mean you."

"Stark..."

"No, don't you 'Stark...' me. My building, my rules."

The line went dead, and Natasha slammed the phone down. Damn. S.H.I.E.L.D had been in a flurry to figure out how to communicate the Avengers incase something went wrong, with Bruce planning to fly out to India to help in a rural hospital, Thor back to Asgard, Steve planning to move back to Brooklyn. Natasha and Clint were still working for S.H.I.E.L.D, so tabs could be kept on them, but with their missions, the bases they returned to were constantly changing and uncertain. Tony Stark had solved the problem by offering up Stark Towers as a base, claiming that the battle had blown off all the letters but the letter A, and that maybe it was a "sign from a god that we were meant to be." To which Steve had responded, '"Listen, there's only one God, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't work that way."

So Stark opened up 6 floors, including their own rooms, an entire floor dedicated to the latest training equipment, a place for R&R, a laboratory for Banner. Natasha had been sent on a mission 3 days after the invasion, and had arrived 2 days ago. She had taken to staying in her room and avoiding group meals and 'bonding.' But she supposed it wouldn't hurt to go for one meal, as long as Stark didn't try poisoning her, God knows if Pepper can really cook or Stark was just trying to get laid tonight. Honestly, a hot meal sounded nice, but that would mean...

Dammit Loki.

Clint stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped the steam off his mirror and stared at his reflection. His face was gaunt and pale, the bags under his eyes more prominent than ever. His chest heaved as he took a couple deep breaths to slow his heart beat. Ever since Loki had gotten into his mind, it was like his mind was a stranger, mainly at night. When he slept, his dreams were full of red and black, he kept watching Natasha's eyes, wide and glassy, feeling her breath leave body, hearing the scream as his arrow entered her heart. So he stayed awake. Coffee cups and empty mint boxes piled up in his room. There was almost a hole on his floor, from his constant pacing to keep from nodding off. It was torturing his body, but he just couldn't stand watching Natasha die, over and over again.

A loud knocking pulled him out of his stupor, followed by a slight clicking noise. A pair of footsteps sounded across his room, followed by a rattling noise. Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, revealing a woman in tights and tank top, her red hair curled behind her ears. She leaned against the door frame, a look of amusement crossing her face as she looked at Clint in nothing but a wet towel, dripping.

"Why come on in, Natasha, I'm not busy and totally dressed appropriately right now!"

Ignoring his statement, she nodded towards the phone next to his bed.

"Stark call you about Pepper making breakfast?"

Shaking his head, he picked up his clothes and walked out the bathroom door, Natasha turning as he walked by. Throwing his clothes onto the bed, he waved his hand in a rotating motion, gesturing at her to turn around so he could dress. Rolling eyes, she walked to the window, taking up an entire wall.

"You know Clint, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before. There was that time in India where you got bitten by that snake and I had to..."

"Okay! Wow, did not need that image in my head this early in the morning!"

"Please, your mind is already in the gutter..."

"And how do you think it got there? So, how was the mission?"

He heard her move across the room to sit in the armchair as he pulled on a shirt.

"Horrible. S.H.I.E.L.D's been tracking the guy for months. Finally got him cornered at some charity ball. They needed my legs, not me. Got him down in about 3 hours."

"And it was horrible because...?"

"Our new handler seems to think that just because I'm a woman means I have the IQ of a rabbit, and the urge to produce like a rabbit, it seems."

"You tell Fury about him?"

"Heck no. Fury's already waist deep in complaints form the council because of the Avengers. We're not even supposed to exist. Last thing he needs is to find us a new handler."

Clint turned to Natasha, a look of confusion on his face.

"You're going to let this go? Seriously? Wait...don't tell me...is he hot?"

Natasha stared at him with a look that said ' are you seriously my partner.'

"Yes, Clint. Yes he is. And I am totally going to hook up with him. Tonight. In fact, why don't we go print off posters and flyers?"

The sarcasm dripping from her words made him laugh.

"Come on, spiderwoman, let's go get some of Pepper's 'world class' poison, I mean cooking, before we track down this new handler of ours."

.


	2. Chapter 2

Pepper was happy. The entire team, for once, was eating breakfast together. Bruce usually ate in his room, surrounded by piles of papers and graphs. Steve was usually good about showing up to breakfast, but he usually sat in a little nook, looking out the arching windows. Thor was in Asgard, and when did visit Earth, he usually spent as much time as he could between battling Steve at Tetris or with 'Lady Jane.' Tony had a philosophy: Never conform to the patters of the world. Therefore, he ate breakfast at 8 at night, lunch at 2 in the morning, and dinner somewhere in between. It was probably because he had projects, and it didn't help that he programmed JARVIS to adjust the clock so it ran slower, so he'd have an excuse to be late for things. Natasha and Clint might occasionally meander in once in a blue moon, but those were rare. But today, today was different. They would actually sit down like a...family?

The two assassins pushed through the glass doors into the industrial kitchen/common area, otherwise known as the Pit. Pepper was flipping pancakes, while Tony was sitting at the countertop, downing what looked like his third cup of coffee. Bruce was hunched in a corner, blueprints and draft paper surrounding him, a look of frustration drawn across his face. Steve and Thor were arm wrestling, although it was unclear who was winning.

"Well, well. If it isn't my two favourite assassins, , looking as lovely as ever, and , don't you look spiffy, this fine morning!"

Natasha muttered under her breath, "Hold me back. Hold me back."

"Alright, Tony. Put the coffee down. Guys, grab a plate and get whatever you want."

Clint chuckled slightly as Pepper slid one last steaming hot pancake off the pan onto the stack as the Avengers scrambled to the hot food. One day, Tony would push Natasha's buttons to the point where even Clint himself wouldn't be able to calm Natasha down.

Natasha headed to the JARVIS run coffee machine, and began dabbing at the touch screen, filling two cups. Clint grabbed two plates and began dishing up a mountain of food onto both. Bruce glanced up from his notes and caught sight of Tony, grinning like a mad man. Following his line of sight, he watched the assassins. Clint had doused his pancakes in syrup, and was now leaning across to Natasha's plate and looked like he was drowning her pancakes. She was carrying her and Clint's drink, her's was black coffee, his was hot chocolate. Clint didn't drink coffee unless he was trying to pull an all nighter, claiming it put him on a caffein buzz, which ruined his senses after it wore off. The two scientists watched, one more amused than the other, as the partners started to eat. The other Avengers, noticing nothing, continued on with breakfast. Bruce winged silent prayer that Tony would keep his mouth shut, and allow them this one peaceful breakfast.

But he forget. This was Tony Stark they were talking about.

It didn't take too long for the spies to catch Tony's huge grin. Clint looked uneasily at Natasha as he slowly put down his cup.

"Um, Tony? Are you okay?"

Tony's grinned seemed to widen, the rest of the team now paying attention. Natasha inwardly groaned as her fingers unconsciously played over her fork.

"Tell me, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. How long have the two of you been spies?"

Clint sighed as he stood up, picking up his and Natasha's plates and cups.

"Not again, Tony."

He said this as he slid his plate into the dishwasher and headed to refill the cups. She nodded a silent word of thanks as he slid the steaming cup in front of her.

"No, seriously! I am genuinely curious about this. I mean, we ARE a team now, and I feel as if this lack of conversation will being to put a strain on our relationship, and eventually, we will all break up and go our separate ways. And we don't want that, now do we?"

Clint and Natasha both has looks on their faces saying, "Oh yes, we do."

Tony continued on.

"Or at least that's what Pepper's book says. 'Two is Better than One: Ideal Advice for the Ideal Couple', which, by the way, I have read more than ones!"

This last part was directed to Pepper, who was starting to wipe down the counters.

Deciding that this was too much, Natasha gulped down the last of her coffee, ignoring the slight burn in her throat. She headed for the door.

"Good thing you and Clint aren't in a relationship then."

Tony opened his mouth, but Clint cut him off he followed his partner out.

"And you'd better praise the Lord that you're not in a relationship with Natasha."

In the hallway, both assassins remained silent, although Clint hurried his steps, until he fell in rhyme next to her. A light flickered over head as their waited for the lift to take them down to the car park, where an unmarked car would take them to the S.H.I.E.L.D head quarters. It was deemed to unsafe to hold briefings for missions at Stark Tower, not necessarily because it was easier for enemies to infiltrate, but because of the building's namesake. After having Tony effortlessly tap into the S.H.I.E.L.D's data base and discovering the plans for weaponry, Fury was taking no chances of having him get into mission files as well.

Once they pulled out of the parking lot, Natasha let out the sigh she'd been holding in the whole time. Clint looked curiously over at her.

"Stark."

Clint nodded, an unsaid agreement that they had missed a close bullet.

"Stark."

Tony's eyes lit up when Natasha's voice came through the overhead speakers in the dining room area. Steve and Thor looked up from the game of blackjack Steve was trying to teach the Asgardian warrior. A look of dread crossed Bruce's face as he put his pencil down. All eyes were on Tony's mischievous grin, identical looks of confusion and worry on their faces.

"That bad huh?"

Clint's voice now joined in.

"You have no idea."

"Can't be that bad, all he did was ask one question."

"Uh...Stark, what is this?"

Tony shushed Captain America with a wave of his hand.

'JARVIS, bring in the screen.'

The area above the table flickered, as a screen created by pixels in midair formed. Before long, the team could clearly see that it was Clint and Natasha in the car, on their way to S.H.I.E.L.D. When a long silence ensued, Tony turned to face the men of the Avengers, minus Clint.

"I hooked up a listening device into their car. And a camera. Really, you'd think Fury would at least change cars for their transportation, you know, in case someone decided to listen in on their conversations."

"Or put them on your screen thingy."

Thor sounded in his booming voice as he refilled his cup with coffee. Steve chimed in.

"And what if they were discussing mission information? In the army, they would debrief us in the transportation truck if there was no time to get back to base."

Tony looked at them with an 'I-am-so-offended' look. He placed a hand over his 'heart.'

"I am actually offended that you guys would think so low of me! Did you really think that I would hook this up just to find out what Fury's telling them?"

The men looked at each other, back at Tony, and nodded.

"Well, I'll...SHH!"

Natasha's voice again.

"Remember that time I was compromised?"

A pause.

"Yes."

Clint turned to look at Natasha, but her eyes wouldn't meet his. She kept them on the high way road as she drove. Knowing her, she was probably replaying Loki's interrogation. Even he, Clint, could see what she meant when she said compromised. The night after the battle, when she was asleep, thanks to the help of a sedative, he had sneaked into the files and accessed the video of Loki and Natasha. Afterwards, Clint went down to the workout room, where he shot arrow after arrow, ran mile after mile, destroyed punching bag after punching bag, and still he could not shake out the feeling of anger at Loki. More importantly, he couldn't get rid of the disappointment and anger he had for himself.

The men had their eyes all trained on the screen, Tony's hand gripping the edge of the counter, an eager smile playing on his lips. Although they knew it was wrong, they couldn't help but be somewhat glad that for the first time, they would be able to understand what made their female counterpart such an unapproachable person. They found themselves leaning in as well.

"Well... the whole time Loki was speaking, I only have one thought running through me head."

A pause.

"What?"

Clint felt his chest constrict, as if all the air in the car ad been sucked out.

"What?"

Stark's eyes were nearly popping out of his head. The pencil Bruce had begun toying with snapped in his hands. Even Steve was showing some signs of tension, as he too awaited to long desired 'secret' of the Black Widow. Thor went into the kitchen to see if JARVIS could make him more of those 'flat dough that tastes good with the sweet syrup.'

But Natasha kept driving, without a word, until she reached a stoplight. He was about to ask again, when she opened her mouth."

"Only one. And it was...Tony Stark, I am going to open a can of whoop ass on you if you don't stop planting microphones in my car. I am not even kidding. You'd better hide behind Pepper when I get back, and even then."

Then she reached into the glove compartment and yanked out a small microchip. Embedded in it was a microphone, which was sending signals back to whatever machine Start had hooked up. Clint's eyebrows went up slightly, but he too reached up behind the rearview mirror and pulled out a small lens, a hidden camera. Natasha smirked at her partner as she pressed the accelerator, gunning the car forward.

Tony nearly collapsed in frustration when a fuzzy record sound filled the room, and the screen started to flicker until it too died out. He stormed out of the kitchen like a little boy being sent to his room, stomping and flailing. The rest of the men could hear his sounds of frustration as he headed down the hall.

Thor pipped up.

"Would any of you like some of this flat dough?"

Bruce took his glasses off and rubbed his forehead.

"Thor, don't you mean pancakes?"


End file.
